Stay Beautiful
by NJCD
Summary: One shot about Clare battling with bulimia.


**Alright, idk what this is but whatever. I've basically stopped writing xD but I just felt like finishing this one shot.**

**So, get this: I'm not allowed back in school, until further notice. Friday was the fourth fucking time this year they called me into the counselors because they think I'm going to murder someone. They even called in fucking 'Crisis Services' and I'm not allowed to go back to school until I get a mental evaluation, which I have one scheduled for tomorrow. I'm still going to go to school, of course, because fuck them; I have classes.**

**Alright, now here's something funny. Lat night I got really drunk/high so I thought it would be a good idea to text my ex. So here's the message:**

**_hey dude you know what we actually shouold make out becaus emaking owut is fun and moreso with you because you're pretty fucking amazing and you and i havent maked out in like a year and idk man im just saying_**

**Well she was already asleep but she messaged me 8 hours later, early this morning,**

**_Are you drunk_**

**xD so yeah. And later I asked her: _Wait how did you know I was drunk _And she said:**

**_Spelling errors/ _****_And confused grammar/ _****_That's pretty much exactly like slurring your words just via internet_**

**And I asked, _Oh, but the asking you to make out with me was totally normal? _And she said yes xD woohoo life is fucking crazy**

**Wow this is a long A/N okay sorry xD enjoy this shitty story**

_**-NJCD**_

* * *

He stayed up late the night before, watching 'Milo and Otis' because he knew it'd make her smile. He overslept because of it, so he missed the note taking portion for his first class. Because he missed the notes, he had to stay after class and catch up. And, because of that, he left right when traffic was heavy. He ended up home 3 hours later than usual.

Eli walked through the door of the apartment him and Clare shared and immediately dropped his bag and fell on the couch, sighing from a long day. "Clare!" He called, though his voice was muffled by the cushion. "Eli?" She emerged from elsewhere and sat next to him, "How was school?"

He gave a annoyed sounding grunt. "Bad, I'm guessing." He flipped over and looked up at her, "Kinda, yeah." Sitting up, he asked, "I picked you up some Chinese food." She looked at his bag which had a paper carton, presumably full of rice, on top of it. "I already ate today." It was a lie. It was always a lie.

"Really? What'd you eat?" He looked at her, waiting for a response. A truthful one. "The, uh, the sandwiches you made me." She stammered.

He stood up and walked over to where her bag was, unzipping it and digging through it for a moment. He then revealed the bag with the two sandwiches, "Clare..." He groaned, tossing it onto the table. She looked down, embarrassed.

"You have to eat." He sat down and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. For a few years now, Clare had been struggling with anorexia and bulimia. She threw up almost anything she ate and wouldn't eat without a fight.

"I'm fine. I'm really not hungry." She insisted. Eli opened the rice and picked some up with the chopsticks. "Come on." He held it in front of her mouth, waiting for her to eat. She opened her mouth and took the rice from the chopsticks, chewing it fast, "Thank you."

Eli picked some more up and held it to her. "Eli, I'm fine." She insisted. He kissed her cheek, "Please." He glanced down at her body. She looked like a typical anorexic. "You have to eat." After arguing every bite, she'd eaten the whole box of rice.

He kissed her on the lips this time, "How was your day?" She rested her eyes, "Fine. Tiring."

"You wouldn't be so tired if you just ate something." It slipped out without him thinking, "I, uh, I didn't-I just mean you can still be, uh, skinny if you eat. Actually, there's no one you need to impress, so that shouldn't even matter." He knew he was only going to make her worse, but he needed to try to give the message across.

"You wouldn't love a fat girl." She spat.

"Nothing would ever make you less beautiful. Remember when you were afraid I wouldn't love a bald girl?" He asked, referencing her cancer, "I did and I'll love you no matter what. But I can't stand to see you starving yourself! You faint twice a week!"" He snapped the last two sentences, bringing an unwanted seriousness to the conversation.

"You don't understand." She choked out, standing up and running to their bedroom. Eli sighed and picked up another carton of food, eating it for himself. He hated when she cried, but he had to talk to her about it. He thought about going to her parents, but he often reminded himself that she was 19 and an adult. She was her own person and her parents couldn't help.

After giving Clare a few hours to cool down while he worked on homework, Eli approached their bedroom and sat down next to where Clare was sitting, "I don't mean to raise my voice." He said and held her hand. "It's fine."

"I'm just afraid that one day you'll-you'll pass out and never wake up." His voice cracked severely, and his eyes began to water. "That will never happen." She assured. "You don't know that! You don't know that with all your starving and purging!"

"I promise you it will never happen. Just don't worry about me." Clare was beginning to breath heavier, but she felt if Eli would just back off, she could stay calm.

"I worry about you, love, and I always will." He brought her hand up and kissed it, "I love you and I...I just don't want to lose you."

"I ate, Eli, okay? Just let it go." They were silent for a moment, but then Clare saw what effect _her _words had on him. He hung his head and tried not to show his emotions, but they were blatantly obvious. "I love you, too." She said softly.

Clare had seen many therapists and even been to a 4-week rehab program during the summer, but at this point, bulimia was just the norm for her. It was an addiction that Eli hated seeing go through.

"You're beautiful, you know. You're pretty, sexy, cute...you're just amazing." He scooted farther onto the bed, "But this needs to stop. You need to eat; I can't stand to see you withering away."

"I'm going for a drive." She stood up and started to leave, but Eli was off the bed in a second. He grabbed her arm and pulled her, wrapping his arm around her, "I'm not letting you go off and throw up somewhere. You need help." The wrestled, Clare trying to pull away from him and Eli tying to hold her, trying to keep her there with him.

She managed to rip her arms from his grip and slumped down the wall, crying. "Clare..." He started to squat, but she weakly muttered at him, "Go away, Eli."

"Just come to bed." He was so tired. So was she. "Come on." He squatted down and picked her up—she weighed practically nothing, so it was easy to carry her to the bed.

Neither of them changed into pajamas, but Eli took off his shirt and pants. All was soft and sound as the couple slept. Their bodies were tangled together and everything seemed peaceful and okay.

Sometime during the night, Eli woke up to the sound of barfing. He stayed in bed and thought about everything. He couldn't do this anymore. He was her boyfriend, not her doctor, yet he was always taking care of her and making sure she would eat. He couldn't stand this and it almost wasn't worth it. It wasn't worth it.

And then he could hear her muffled sobs and climbed out of bed. He looked up as he flushed the toilet because he didn't feel like seeing what she'd thrown up.

They were both so exhausted; Eli just sat down and wrapped his arms around her. He could never leave her. She kept crying and he just kissed her neck, "It's okay, beautiful. I'm not mad." He loved her too much. "It's okay." In his head, he was planning to put her back in a rehab. He wanted her to be okay.


End file.
